Americanathan
by kasviel
Summary: Slash Yaoi. A half-parody look into the life of Dick Roman. Contains graphic violence, spanking.


**Author's Notes**

I have absolutely no idea what compelled me to write this, other than the fact that there were a few plot holes I thought should be filled, and the overwhelming urge to see Dick Roman taken down a notch, even if temporarily. Also, he never ate anyone on camera, and I thought, being the leader of the Leviathans, that was a bit of horror we needed to see. So, we have a story that is part slash, part horror, and mostly parody. Hey, I also explain why the Leviathans wanted to cure cancer—more than the season eight writers can say, right?

Yes, it's a silly story, but why so serious, right? I wish I could have made it funnier, but I'm not good with comedy, and the Dick jokes are juvenile enough to float it (I hope). Part of joke is to picture the original character of Dan Donner being played by John Hamm: I wrote him as a Mad Men, throwback type of character. Why? Just for the hell of it, I guess.

The title, "Americanathan", is an "American Psycho" parody. I love that book, and it has its own moments of cannibalistic horror. High glamor, brutal murder, and a little bit of corporate discipline. It's summer, and I needed a light little piece of slash to entertain myself with. Hope you enjoy it, or at least get a cheap laugh or two! Thanks for reading!

01

The first thing Dan Donner did when he arrived at the charity fundraiser was find the bar. The second thing he did was order a single malt scotch, the third thing being drinking it, and the fourth being having another poured. He thanked all the powers of the universe that the bullshit anti-smoking cultists of New York had not yet touched this building—well, they had touched it, but they had deigned to leave this bar corner free to smokers. Thus, the fifth thing Dan did was light a cigarette, inhale deeply, and exhale as if it were his last.

If the biopsy came back unclean, it very well might be. Dan felt he should be more upset over this fact, but it left him numb. Everything left him numb these days.

Growing up in the country, on a genuine farm, one of New England's last family-owned, Dan had spent long nights staring out at the encroaching emptiness and dreaming of cities full of buildings and people and concrete. He had basically spent his childhood dreaming of places like this chic building, people like this top one-percent crowd. From the grim loneliness of the farm, Dan had believed that happiness lay in this world.

After all, there was no horseshit to avoid stepping in on the streets (he had not considered the police horses back then), no dust to be kicked up on every non-road path, and your shoes would never be drenched from heel to toe in mud after a rain. The urbane rich of the cities would be as clean and glossy as they looked on TV, in the magazines. The air would not be clean or fresh, but it would be alive. Making it here was all Dan had ever wanted.

Back then, he had not realized there would be other smells, more insidious, and other filth, somehow even dirtier hidden behind veneers of perfection. While he was lying, cheating, even stealing, to achieve his success, Dan had never once thought his dream would let him down. He couldn't allow himself to believe that climbing to this point in the world would not be worth it—it would have left him without that one undefinable yet utterly important human emotion: faith.

Now that the climb was over, the mountain peak reached, Dan had finally lost that faith once and for all. He had spent some years trying to find it again, in sex and excitement, in luxury, and finally, in a bottle. He stayed with the bottle, not knowing where else to look, not even caring to search for that lost dream anymore.

This cloud of wealth and alcoholic stupor and sex was enough for him. It may have been heaven, it may have been hell, but Dan no longer cared which it was. It felt good, and he had achieved everything he ever hoped for. He was a success.

Someone sat at the bar beside him. He glanced, then looked again. To his annoyance, one of those entitled born success stories had taken the stool next to him. The man gave him a perfectly dishonest, if dashing, smile, and then ordered his own drink.

Dan hated men like Richard Roman; they symbolized everything that was wrong with wealth. In a way, Dan could not blame Richard for being the way he was: only a fool would be born with every opportunity and then throw it all away. Still,he did not have to like the smug bastard, and he had a very personal reason for the dislike.

This reason seemed to have slipped Richard's mind, because he actually had the nerve to attempt to make conversation with Dan. Nodding at the cigarette, he said, perhaps joking, "Those things will kill you."

Dan exhaled. "Yeah. I _**know**_, Roman."

"Oh no, please, call me Dick."

Dan frowned, looked at him. "You hated being called 'Dick'."

Roman's smile froze, looked awkward on his face. His eyes flickered this way, then that, as if he was reading a book or processing some information mentally. "Oh! Right..." he finally said. He laughed, looked down into his drink, a little abashed. "Dan Donner, right. I remember you now."

"I hope so."

"Look." Dick turned on the stool to face Dan more fully. "I was young, stupid—I was a, you could say a completely different person, back then. If I offended you in any way-"

"Just forget it, Dick." Dan said the name with a bit more venom than would be normal.

"Well, now, I don't really want to forget it." Dick smiled strangely. His hand was crawling across the bar counter towards' Dan's. "You can't deny we had a connection."

"I never denied it," Dan said pointedly. "_You_ did."

"Like I said, I was young, stupid." Dick's hand fell on Dan's. "I'm a different person now."

Dan opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to for a moment. When Dick's skin touched his own, an odd sensation came over him. He felt his being, soul, being sucked away into some dark place. Dick's eyes glinted, and he could have sworn the CEO of Sucrocorp was _reading_ him, somehow. It was inexplicable, but he could not stop the crazy thoughts from formulating distinctly in his mind.

Dick's brow furrowed just slightly, and he withdrew his hand. He stared at his palm thoughtfully, running two fingers over it. _What just happened? _he fretted. _I saw the data making up his entire life, saw his soul, but … there's something else there, something unreadable. If I wanted to duplicate him, I couldn't. He's … special, in some way. How? Why?_

"Are you okay?" Dan asked, noticing the flush creeping into Roman's face.

"Yes." Dick smiled automatically, though there was turmoil in his eyes. He took a sip of his drink, cleared his throat; he was becoming quite adept to human mannerisms and behavior, sometimes surprising himself by mimicking them without conscious effort. He leaned his face on a hand, noticed the warmth, and glanced in the mirrors behind the bottles of alcohol. The novelty of blushing held him captive. Being in human form was proving to be humorously complicated, as the template of the original being whose form they took sometimes acted and reacted as its base persona would have. _Delightful, _thought Dick.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Dick shook himself back to reality. "The smoke is getting in my eyes," he explained. With a cute smile, he suggested. "Why don't we go out? Get away from all this?"

"Uh-" Dan was shocked by the playfulness, and unexpectedly aroused. He wondered if Dick was making fun of him, but that tiny nagging strain of faith in him made him believe he was not. "Sure. Why not?"

They left the bar, wading through the crowds of the fundraiser, Dick stopping to smile and shake hands and chat with various people, Dan standing in the background uncomfortably. It took half an hour to get away from it all and get onto the street.

The city night was still, louder and yet more quiet than the inane chatter inside. Dan lit a fresh cigarette, ignoring Dick's glance of distaste. Dick could not fathom why humans loved destroying themselves. Then again, why would they care if they ruined their savory taste or not? They had no idea there was anything out there longing to devour them as delicacies, now, did they?

"I don't get it," Dan admitted, now that they were in privacy. "That summer on your daddy's yacht, we had something. We had something strong. You not only refused to acknowledge me, you practically laughed in my face, before spewing homophobic insults at me. And now, what?"

"Now, I'm more mature." Dick's smile broadened. "I know how to … be discreet."

"Oh, so you know how to lie about being gay? Great."

"Bisexual, and give me a break," Dick scoffed. "You've had, what? Two wives, three children? If that isn't a cover, I don't know what is."

"Okay, I'll give you that." Dan cocked his head curiously as Dick came up very close in front of him. "But what about you? You've never pretended enough to marry, but if you've been discreet about being bisexual, you must be the most discreet man on the planet; I haven't heard a single whisper."

"Well, Dan, that may be because I don't leave anyone around to whisper about me."

The sinister tone came across as genuine, but Dan laughed it off; it had to be a joke. Dick joined his laugh, putting a hand on his chest suggestively. Dan took the hand in his own, lifted it to his lips, and kissed the top. Dick was watching him with incredibly intense focus, as if he was a virgin seeing sexual innuendo for the first time. Dan wondered if he had been lying about being bisexual, and if this was his first attempt at seducing a man.

Dick was focused on the tongue that lightly brushed his hand. The tongue was soft, spongy, and he knew for a fact that when torn off, the orifice bled profusely, all that delicious red sauce pouring from the mouth, mouth into mouth. He shuddered at the thought, and it took every fiber of his being to restrain his appetite. There was an artistry to control, he was beginning to realize, and balancing it was titillating.

Dick sidled up to Dan, and leaned into a soft, exploring kiss. He was an excellent kisser, the way he moved his tongue giving Dan the illusion that it could extend just a bit more than normal. Dan's arms encircled Dick's trim waist, and he pulled him against his body.

Dick's teeth just closed lightly on Dan's tongue before letting it withdraw, a personal, alluring gesture. Dan let his hands wander from Dick's hips to his buttocks, and he squeezed him. Dick smiled, though there was little physical reaction; he was very close, very hard, but there was still something unnatural about his motions, a lack of shiver and shudder, an unnatural directness in his gaze.

_He's going through the motions as if they were a game, _Dan thought before he could fully comprehend the implications of this observation. _He's only pretending to feel._

Yet Dan was immune to the phoniness of the upper crust. He would take what he had always wanted from Dick, and who cared what Dick wanted? He was willing, he was handsome, he was an adult—everything else was irrelevant.

* * *

The drive to Dick's penthouse was agony. Dick was overly attentive, exploring with his hands every part of Dan's anatomy, with minute detail. His hungry touch was more erotic in its plaintiveness than any put-on sexuality Dan's usual partners affected. When he looked into Dan's blue eyes with that mischievous, amused smile, Dan felt his resolve to dislike the man that had once spurned him melt away.

"It's your ambition."

Dan huffed a few times, tipped Dick's face up to his own by the chin. "What?"

Dick licked his lips, smiled. "Your ambition is the spark," he explained. He took Dan's face into his hands. "That's what makes you unique, what makes you special. You sacrificed everything, did anything, to succeed. It's a rarity amongst humans. Greed is commonplace, ambition is not."

Dan barely understood what he was saying, but he took the compliment. He kissed Dick fully, holding him close.

"We're the same, in a way."

Dan laughed, and held Dick at arms' length. "You and I have nothing in common, Dick."

"We have more in common than you would think," Dick said. He sat back, smoothing his brown hair back with both hands. "We have ambition."

"I don't know if you could understand ambition like I do," Dan said. "I've had to crawl my way up from the bottom. You always had your father's support, his money."

"My father … " Dick laughed, ran a finger over his bottom lip in thought. "Do you believe all that spin about family values? Do you?"

Dan looked at him doubtfully.

"My father locked me up and threw away the key," Dick said, more honest than he expected himself to be. He straightened his clothing. "He was afraid of my potential, I think. When you create perfection on the first try, you have to give up. My father was never very good at giving up."

"My father gave me nothing but bruises."

"A lack of scrutiny can be worth an abundance of abuse," Dick said. "Abuse is meant to change, to mold, but what about when you can't be molded, can't be changed? Is there any worse abuse than total indifference?"

"You make it sound like you came from some awful place-"

"A cesspool is a cesspool, isn't it?"

"I guess you have a point," Dan allowed. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" He cuddled Dick in his arms. "Poor baby."

Dick laughed. "Oh, don't feel sorry for me."

"I don't."

"Good."

They barely made it out of the limo, and when they did, their clothes were vicariously hanging off. Dick gave a regretful glance to the departing car. He had made a habit out of eating his drivers, and that one had been a four-hundred-pounder, at least.

Nonetheless, Dick was determined to see this experiment through until the end. When he returned to Dan, he was as sensual as ever. They fell against one another, awkwardly making their way inside, and into the elevator that went directly up to Dick's suite.

Once at home, Dick tore his clothing off so fiercely that several pieces tore. He kicked one shoe so hard across the room that it cracked the bulletproof glass windows. Dan was too enraptured to notice, his hands pawing incessantly at Dick.

He pounced so strongly on Dan that the tall man was knocked back, and they fell onto the sofa. He sat crouched over Dan, grinning, and took his face in both hands. Before Dan could regain the top position, Dick kissed him hard, biting lightly at his bottom lip as he pulled away.

Reluctantly, Dick allowed Dan to overturn him then. He knew that Dan was a dominant top, and he also knew that if he let himself top, his aggression would overtake him and he would end up making a meal instead of an experiment out of Dan Donner.

"Kind of forceful for a bottom, aren't you?" chuckled Dan as he turned the slender man onto his stomach. He ran his fingers down his spine, was a bit confused by the lack of a shiver or tremble. He gave Dick a spank, hoping to get a reaction; Dick only laughed. Somewhat irritated, he gave him a series of harder slaps. "Glad you're so amused."

Dick looked back over his shoulder, smiling at him. Dan stopped, hand in midair, faltering. There was a coldness in the man's eyes that stayed him, almost struck him with terror. Again, he could not shake the feeling that Dick was only playing some game, that there was a falseness about his every action.

Dick caught the look on the man's face. _Poor thing, he isn't as stupid as I thought he was. _

"Problem?" Dick asked with a cynical, smarmy smile. "_Performance_ problem?"

The challenge being made, Dan instantly buried his reservations. He gave Dick some more spanks, as the man watched him intently, and then hoisted him onto his knees beneath him.

The sex was hot, furious, from the moment Dan entered him. Though it could not compare to eating, it was still pleasingly carnal. The restraint it required to maintain his human form was immense, and there was something of an art to stifling his appetite through this savagery.

The artistry began to wan the more intense the motions and feelings became. Dan was pleased to see Dick trembling, completely unaware that it was due to the fact that it was getting harder for the Leviathan to stay in human in form. Dan rode him harder, driving into him with more force than he had used with anyone in a while; Dick could not only take it, he wanted it. The thin man was amazingly resilient, and incredibly voracious.

Dan reached around and ran his fingers over Roman's lips, shushing him. Dick licked his fingers, and could not help it—he bit him. Dan laughed, and then yelped when Dick drew blood. He gave him a hard slap on the bottom, but Dick was undeterred. He took Dan's hand by the wrist, and began … was he _nibbling_ on it?

"Hey, stop." Dan tried to tug his hand away, but found he could not. Dick's teeth were unusually sharp. "Dick, _**stop it**_!"

Dick mumbled something muffled, heaved a sigh, and released him. His head was suddenly pulled back by the hair. Dan looked down at him angrily.

"What the hell was that?"

Dick grinned broadly up at him, his eyes shining with a sinister kind of gleam. "You just taste so good." He licked droplets of blood from the corner of his mouth with his tongue, which seemed to extend more than it should be able to. He reached back a hand and ruffled it in Dan's silky black hair. He shut his eyes, sighing in ecstasy that was akin to a narcotic high. "You're a little hard-muscled and not very fat, but … but you _taste_ … _so_ … **good**."

Dan felt himself going limp, as a chill crawled through his body. Angry at his fear, and at Dick for causing it, he slammed the man's face down into the sofa arm. He went into him as fast and hard as he could, trying to hurt him. Dick kept his face buried in the sofa, though he moaned—not with pain, but with pleasure.

By the time he finished off, and they fell apart, Dick was shaking violently. Dan attributed this, and his odd silence at the end, to having finally shaken the man's resolve, and was pleased. Forgiving him, he pulled Dick onto his chest, and they lay the length of the sofa for a time. Dick's chest was heaving, and he kept swallowing. His hands wandered down Dan's body in a soft caress, though his eyes traveled the man's body with a spark of lust.

"I really do like you, Dan Donner," he said, almost apologetically. He looked up at Dan seriously, that smile finally gone from his face (though not the underlying amusement). "That was much more fun than I expected."

He buried his face in Dan's neck, kissing him, licking him. "I really, really enjoyed you. I'm sorry if I was less … affected, by your dominance, than your usual simpering masochists. If you _could_ hurt me, I would have gladly let you."

"Oh, I hurt you," Dan said confidently. "Whether you admit it or not, I know I hurt you."

"No, Dan," Dick said sadly, meeting his eyes. "You really did not."

Annoyed beyond words, Dan overtook him. They rolled onto the floor, Dick landing hard on his back, Dan atop him. He drew back his hand and slapped Dick's full across the face. Shockingly, Dick's grin returned. He tried to slap it off, but Dick just laughed at him.

"Damn you."

Dan leaned down into a sloppy, wet kiss, and Dick met it with eagerness. This time, the violence of it all overtook Dick. In a dizzy blur, he clutched at the human wildly, their bodies entangled, and his mouth kept opening just a little bit wider to intake the flavor of him.

It happened quickly, before Dick could even attempt to control himself. His face lingered just above Dan's groin, and the tiny bit of excess flesh, along with the thick muscle lining the man's torso became too tempting to resist. With a drugged look on his face, Dick drew his head back, and then, his face shifting into the horror of his true nature, wrapped his distended jaws full around Dan's torso.

Dan could only make a choking sound, barely audible, as inhuman teeth sharper than razors tore through his flesh as if it were butter. Dick's face burrowed into his abdomen, as he gaped down at him in frozen horror; the sudden rush of adrenaline combined with the dampening of his arousal made his body shake and his mind completely go blank. He reached out clumsily, his hands slipping and sliding on Dick's shoulders. The weak gesture was completely ignored by the man—_thing_-whatever Dick Roman was, had become.

They say the human brain can only process a certain amount of pain, but Dan's cloudy, random thought process told him this had to be a lie. As he heard the squishing of his body being chewed by Dick, an immense, brutal pain tore through him. Everything went hazy and dark, but he remained awfully conscious. This could not be reality, but nothing in Dan's life had ever felt so real. He choked again, and blood splurted from his mouth, onto Dick's hunched back.

Dick leaned his face out of the cavity he had chewed through Dan's stomach, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes as if in climax. The face Dan had thought just minutes ago was so charming, his handsome face was painted almost completely red with blood. It stained his hair, and he had to blink it from his eyes. He laughed as Dan's intestines tumbled out, and began to spool the stomach up to his mouth.

Dan fell onto his back, light eyes staring nearly blankly. The only coherent thought in his mind was, why did he not _die_? He could feel his intestines streaming out of his body, and his veins felt drained, empty of all blood. The cold was unbearable, combining with the searing pain like a freezer burn spreading through his entire being. His heartbeat could no longer be felt. Why couldn't he just die already? Never before had he wanted anything as badly as he wanted to die.

As he began to fade, he turned his eyes, with effort, down to Dick again. Dick was sitting cross-legged among the pool of blood, joyfully munching on the intestinal track. There was something boyish about the the image, as if he were a naughty child that had spilled paint and was making as big a mess as possible. Dazed, Dan thought, _Well, he is cute … _

Then Dick's face changed again, and if Dan had been able to formulate one more thought before Dick tore into his throat, it would have been that Dick was not exactly so adorable, after all.

_This is a gift it comes with a price  
Who is the lamb and who is the knife _

_Florence and The Machine_

02

Edgar was a kind of lieutenant to Dick Roman. He did not enjoy his position, but the Leviathans adhered to a very strict hierarchy that used the 'survival of the fittest' model. This hierarchy had been in practice since they were created, and had only strengthened in Purgatory, where the creatures had been locked away by God before Creation. The Leviathan inside Dick had been an alpha, surviving for millenniums on the top of the food chain. There was no denying he was, without a doubt, the Leviathan to end all Leviathans.

But something had happened to him since escaping Purgatory. Edgar could not put his finger on it, but he felt that something was wrong with his boss. He had adapted the real Richard Roman's way of thinking, his over-achieving human ambition. Edgar thought he was spreading himself too thin. He trusted the leader's goals, but he had reservations that would not dissipate.

This morning did not ease his doubts. He went into Dick's apartment upon being given access, and found a mess he never would have thought his boss capable of. Everything was in place, but there were pools of blood staining the dove gray carpet near the sofa, seeping beneath the modernist coffee table, around the central seating area that lay before the subdued, massive fireplace. Edgar stopped short, staring.

Dick was coming out of the bathroom, wearing a white French terry robe, freshly bathed. He glanced down at the blood, up at Edgar, and seemed uncharacteristically chagrined.

"I take it that playing with your food wasn't such a good idea, after all," Edgar said flatly.

Dick glanced around, oddly dismayed. "Apparently, we Leviathan have a … an impulse control problem. I thought if anyone could handle it, I could, but …. I suppose I was wrong."

"You broke your own rule," Edgar told him. "Your precious rule: 'There are no such things as monsters'."

"Rules are meant to control the masses," Dick said. "Sometimes, the ones that make those rules have to break them for the sake of progress-"

"Don't give me that elitist hyperbole!" Edgar exploded. "It doesn't _matter _who broke what rule; this is a problem for all of us!"

Dick's face darkened. "You watch how you talk to me."

Edgar inhaled, trying to keep his exasperation under control. "Who was this? How are we going to cover? Impersonate them?"

Dick smiled coldly. "I'm sure you'll figure it all out."

Edgar knelt to the blood, pressed his fingers into it. He tasted the blood, and was made aware of last night's events. "Disgusting."

"I _said_, watch how you speak to me!" Dick snarled at him.

Edgar stood. "Why would you? How _could_ you? They're our prey, Dick!"

"It was an experiment."

"It's disgusting!"

"Damn it!" Dick snapped, finally losing his temper. He stormed over to Edgar and slammed him into the wall. "Don't make me bib you, Edgar. Mmkay?"

Edgar frowned in confusion; Dick felt different, his grasp did not have its usual power. Unable to stop himself, he pried the Leviathan's hands off his neck and twisted them away. Dick looked shocked, and then he cried out, stepping back instinctively.

"_Can_ you bib me, Dick?"

Dick snatched his limbs back from the other, wincing. He flexed his arms, turned his back on Edgar. Furious, he tried to shift into the semblance of their true form, but it would not come. Alarmed, he stopped pacing and froze.

"Are you okay?"

Dick forced himself to turn around and smile broadly, despite his pallor. "I'm fine." He gestured to the bloody center floor. "This is … my mess. I'll clean it up, Edgar. You're right. You're right. I screwed up. I'm Leviathan enough to admit it."

Edgar stared at him, unable to comprehend his sudden change in personality. Dick's smile faded, and he turned from him again.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes!" Dick exclaimed. "Yes. Fine. Just go. Leave."

"I can't just leave you," Edgar said, stepping around the mess to approach his boss. "The mess has to be cleaned up, stories have to be planted."

"I'll take care of it."

"Dick-"

"I'll take care of it!"

Edgar stopped in front of him. He had never seen such a look of desperate panic on Dick's face. He studied him, and then the explanation dawned on him. Dick averted his gaze, his face coloring. The human world that has always felt so small seemed gargantuan, as if it were closing in on him. He felt weak and vulnerable—scared, for the first time since his creation.

"You _can't_ bib me, can you?" Edgar asked, deeply disturbed. He took Dick by the shoulders. "What happened to you?"

"I—I don't—I don't know." Dick was dazed. " I didn't even know anything was wrong until you came here. It—I-" Dick blew out a sigh. "It wasn't the sex. I ate him up, all of him, without any issue. Nothing changed. And he was-" He sighed, this time with pleasure. "It was incredible."

Edgar released him in disgust. "I don't want to hear it."

"No, really." Dick followed, grabbing him by the arm. "The adrenaline and hormones had this effect on the meat, like a … like a _seasoning_. You should have _tasted _him, it was a delicacy."

Edgar looked nauseous.

"And that instant of shock and fear and betrayal—mmmm." Dick smiled dreamily, reflecting on the memory. Then, he sobered, glancing at the bloodstains that were all that was left of Dan Donner. "I didn't mean to eat him," he admitted. "I really didn't. I expected I could restrain myself."

"But why would you _want_ to?" Edgar asked. "They are _food_, Dick, not friends."

"They make pets of their animals, don't they?" Dick pointed out. He walked away from Edgar, looking around the room. "I was going to make a pet of Dan. Keep him. He was special."

"Special?"

Dick glanced around at him. "Yes, special," he affirmed . "Didn't you get that when you tasted the blood? He can't be copied." He shot the wreck one last remorseful look, then swept away from it all, straightening his robe. "Anyway, I don't _know_ what happened. I ate him, it was fine … I need his medical records."

"What?"

"He had taken some tests, and his lungs tasted … funny," Dick explained. "I think it's … cancer?"

Edgar nodded, considering. "Do you think the cancer had this effect? It would be a serious issue for us."

"Hmm, yes." Dick held a fist to his mouth in thought. " …. We'll have to cure it."

"Can we do that?"

"I suppose." Dick shrugged. "There are answers to everything God ever made, we know that. All we have to do is find them."

Edgar snorted in amusement. "We, huh?"

Dick tried to hide the fear that overtook him, but made a poor job of it. He stepped backwards, pointing warningly at the man. "If anything happens to me, you'll be bibbed before sundown, and you know it. Don't get any ideas."

Edgar laughed, walking quickly across the him. Dick actually stepped backwards further, until his back hit a wall. Edgar came right up in front of him, eying him with an unreadable look. Dick held his gaze steadily, but there was real concern in his eyes.

"I could eat you where you stand," Edgar said. He traced a finger over the other's lips. "And _you_ know it."

Dick grinned. "You wouldn't dare."

"I should, after what you did last night," Edgar told him. "How _could_ you do all that with one of them, Dick? It's … it's disappointing. You're our leader, what kind of example does that set?"

Dick did not even bother with a defense, and he no longer looked chagrined. He lifted his chin defiantly.

"And you enjoyed it," Edgar said incredulously. "You actually enjoyed that animal putting his hands all over you."

"You can't understand it from a memory," Dick said. He put his hands on Edgar's, which were gripping his shoulders. "It may not be more enjoyable than eating, as it is to them, but it was like an appetizer, in a way."

"He was inside you," Edgar said with repulsed fascination. "He put his mouth all over you. He _hit_ you."

"That was the funniest part."

"Oh really," Edgar mused. He turned Dick around so he was facing the wall, kept an arm twisted behind his back. He had to admit that some of the human games that had been played the previous night peaked his curiosity; he would never want to play them with a human, but Dick was a Leviathan deep down, after all … and an obnoxious, insufferable, admirable one at that.

Dick glanced over his shoulder at the non-man. His smile had faded, but he still looked amused. Despite his haughty, "You wouldn't dare", he seemed anticipatory.

Edgar pulled out the robe's sash, and slipped it down; Dick was naked beneath. Apparently, humans and Leviathans shared one goal between them: taking their bosses down a notch. He held his heavy hand back, and then slapped the palm against his boss' buttocks. The crack was loud enough to have been a baseball bat, and he heard Dick inhale sharply.

"You didn't feel much of anything last night, but you felt that, didn't you?" Edgar said knowingly. He spanked Dick again. "Not only can you not shift form, you're weakened. Tell me, Dick, how does it feel to be a human?"

Dick flinched, trying to squirm away. "Not so good." He had to grit his dull human teeth to keep from yelping. "That's enough, Edgar."

"Do you think so? I don't think so."

"You'll _pay_ for this, Edgar," Dick warned.

"There are rules for a reason." Edgar turned Dick around, smiling down at him before pulling him by the arm to the bloodstained sofa. He sat down, effortlessly pulling his boss over his knees. He chuckled at the dismayed alarm on Dick's face. He resumed spanking Dick in earnest. "Without rules, any being, no matter how powerful, is nothing. Without rules, the whole structure of even the most complex, sophisticated civilization will fall. Every part of the whole, from the tail to the head, must adhere to the rules. The rules must be sacred."

"Stop quoting me!" Dick shouted, starting to get angry. "Damn it, put me down. **Now**."

"Without consequences for our actions, we would not take responsibility for them, and without responsibility, we are fools. The rules must be above us all, if we are to continue being the ones that write them."

Dick exhaled in frustration, feeling helpless. He suddenly realized how very thin and weak human skin was, its smooth softness completely vulnerable to even the lightest attack. It burned and stung where Edgar smacked him, the pain seeping into the muscle beneath. His face was flushed with warmth and humiliation, and he could feel water in his eyes. This body was leaky and weak, without the Leviathan power behind it, and he suddenly hated it with a passion.

The juvenile outrage that came with one's first real punishment dashed away the last of Roman's resolve. "I'll bib you for this!" he screamed. "I swear, I will! No, I'll eat you myself! Just wait until this damned thing wears off! I'll tear you to shreds!"

"Little hypocritical of you, after you broke so many of your own rules."

"TO HELL WITH THE FUCKING RULES!"

"I never thought I would hear you say that," Edgar remarked. "Tell me, honestly, that you don't deserve this. Tell me that after you've made a mess of this magnitude, that it's wrong of me to reign you in."

"I—I didn't mean—I made a … I miscalculated."

"That man can't be copied!" Edgar yelled harshly down at him. "We don't know who he was! Everyone saw him leave with you, and he'll be missed! If he was at that stupid fundraiser, he had to be important. Do you know what it's going to take to keep this from being noticed by the police? We can't avoid at least a little suspicion falling on you, not now. Tell me you did not screw up, and that you do not deserve at least a little punishment."

"My punishment isn't up to you," grumbled Dick. "You're _**nothing**_. You're a dog, an underling! You have no right!"

Edgar paused in the spanking, surveying the bruises on the Leviathan's human buttocks with satisfaction; they were bright red, and starting to deepen in the center to purple-crimson. "So," he said, "I should report what you've done here to the other bosses, then? Let them decide how to punish you?"

"They aren't my bosses," scoffed Dick. "_No one_ is above me."

"But together, they can overrule you."

Dick licked his lips. If the other powerful ones knew of what he had risked last night, they would certainly have more to do about it than give him a spanking. He knew for a fact many of them would want to end him for the sex alone; not many of the others were as open-minded as he was.

"So, let me know, _boss_." Edgar ran a hand over his aching buttocks, squeezing them. "Do you prefer the wrath of your near-equals, or are you fine being refreshed of your own lessons by your underling?"

"Just—get it _over_ with," scowled Dick.

"Discipline is good for the soul, but better for the whole."

"Just stop quoting me!"

* * *

Edgar had not thought his boss capable of shedding tears, but he was by the end of the very long, thorough spanking. Smacked red from his buttocks to his thighs, he curled up hugging his knees on the sofa, sullenly wiping tears away with a fist.

"This can never happen again," he was saying to himself. He sniffled. "We'll have to cure cancer, and we'll have to try not to kill those that can't be copied. I'll hold a-a meeting … once I'm back to normal."

Edgar nodded, not really listening to him. He was running a hand curiously up and down the boss' thigh. He had to admit, spanking Dick had been a pleasurable experience.

"Why didn't you take your chance?"

Edgar looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"You could have just eaten me," Dick said. "You had your shot, why didn't you take it?"

"I'm not fond of being your underling, but I'm not stupid," Edgar said evenly. "You are our strongest, our leader, and granted that you don't keep screwing up, we need you. I wouldn't cut off our head to spite you."

"Cut off the nose to spite the face."

"Whatever." Edgar moved closer to him. "Besides, what kind of Leviathan would I be if I took you when you were this weak?"

Dick smiled. "A normal one."

Edgar laughed. "Maybe in the beginning, and in Purgatory, when our only concern was eating each other and being as strong as possible. It's different now, the stakes are higher. We can't all turn on each other and try to eat our way up our own food chain, not while trying to make a meal factory out of God's Earth."

"You are good at seeing the big picture, I'll give you that," Dick said. He smiled tightly. "That's why I'm going to swallow my pride and keep from bibbing you when I recover."

"Thank you." With a bit of cynicism, Edgar added, "Boss."

Dick's smile broadened. "Of course, if you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll be more than happy to destroy you."

Edgar just returned his smile. Dick painfully climbed off the sofa, going into his bedroom to find clothing. He refused to look at the effects of the spanking, knowing the sight would drive him to go back on his word and end his lieutenant sooner than later.

He returned to the living room dry-eyed, and in one of his usual suits, albeit with the tie looser than normal. All his confidence had drained away, however, and he walked more than swaggered into the room. Still sulking, he sat in a chair, making an effort not to wince.

"This is ridiculous," he complained. "I can't leave the apartment like this, or someone _will_ tear me to shreds the second they notice. I can't even eat with these pathetic little teeth, and I'm starving."

Edgar stood. "I'll get you something. You have a blender and straws, don't you?"

Dick blushed in embarrassment at having to resort to such measures. He nodded, unable to speak. Edgar moved to leave, stopped at the door, and came over to stand before Dick's chair. He tipped the boss' face up to his own, as Dan had the last night.

"I never in the billions of years we have existed would have thought I would see you humbled."

"You didn't humble me," Dick said. "I'm humbled by my own mistake." His eyes lingered on the bloody floor. "I was … indulgent, stupid."

"Don't beat yourself up. I already did that for you."

Edgar squeezed the man's face, and then leaned down to kiss him. He would have expected Dick to be over his experiments in the human mating ritual, but he kissed him back fervently.

"Hm. What do you know?" Edgar mused, tapping a finger against Roman's bottom lip. "It _isn't_ that disgusting after all. At least, not with you."

Dick smiled, teeth showing. Edgar touched his cheek, and then left him. Alone, Dick was quickly bored. He put his feet up over the edge of the chair to avoid the pressure on his bottom, and began tending to his affairs on his iPhone. He felt a little more normal, after a time.

Edgar returned with organ donation coolers, and without a word, brought them to the kitchen. Dick was relaxing on the chair with his phone. The blender whirred to life shortly.

Edgar handed his boss a large tumbler of red substance, with a straw. Dick grabbed it greedily, threw away the straw, and gulped it from the glass.

"Aaah! Now that's better!" he grinned, teeth stained with blood. He paused. "In fact, I think _I'm_ better." His grin stretched too widely, and his face shifted into the Leviathan form momentarily.

Edgar muttered, "That was short-lived."

Dick swung himself off the chair and got to his feet. "You look disappointed." He gave Edgar's shoulder a pat. "Don't be. Your eminent leader is back to his good, old self."

Edgar came up behind him and put both hands on Dick's shoulders. "With one new memory, though," he said in his ear. "Pity we Leviathans can eat everything into oblivion, except for memories, isn't it?"

Dick blushed very lightly. He moved away, saying nothing, slurping down the rest of his organ smoothie. He threw the glass into the garbage, rinsed his mouth with a glass of vodka, and then wiped his face with a napkin.

"Memories can't be forgotten, but they can be ignored," he told Edgar. The confident, musing smile had returned to his smug face. "And if you _don't_ ignore what happened between us today, well … it won't be … good, will it?"

"I won't say a word."

_But it will be there in his eyes, _Dick thought in annoyance. _Damn him. The moment he slips up, I'll take a bite out of him, put him back in place. _

Dick's shoulders sagged. _Who am I kidding? He'd die with that look in his eyes until I ate them out of the sockets. We may not be completing for the top spots anymore, but I can't deny this is a little victory for him. _

_I'll have to be more careful, more efficient. All work, all work, and the play will come later. _

_Not that all this diversion hasn't been interesting._

_Not that I enjoyed-_

_Not that I didn't-_

_Shit. Time to get back to the basics. Humans over-complicate their stupid little lives, not us. I have to stay focused. I'm too good for this._

"Get this mess cleaned up," Dick ordered. "I'm going out for a real meal, and I want everything covered up by the time I get back. You know who Dan Donner was, who will miss him, so plant some stories."

Edgar repressed the urge to leap at Dick and at least try to get a bite out of him. "Yes sir."

Dick smirked hatefully, put on a coat, threw open the door to the apartment, and headed out. Everything was back in place, just like that. It was good to be on top of the food chain.

– END -


End file.
